Alameda Heights United Methodist Church - Denver, Colorado

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Christmas Presence

by Aaron Barnes 2008 Copyright Reserved

Joseph Mitchell caught a glimpse of his snow covered house ahead as he turned the corner and drove past the white mounds shaped like cars parked along the street in his neighborhood.  He had gone to work last night and found out that because business was slow, a couple of his co-workers, good friends of his to be exact, were laid off yesterday.   Normally the announcement of being laid off would be harsh, but since it was the week before Christmas, the news was terrible for Carl, his wife Joan, and their family and for Judy and her family.  He felt awful for what had happened to them, but he was glad to be home.

He pulled his car into the driveway and stopped.  The frosted living room window blinked with red, yellow, blue, and green twinkling lights.  Centered in the window hung a large evergreen Christmas wreath and along the bottom, on the sill glowed inviting Christmas candle lights.

Joseph stepped out of the car onto crisp and crunching white snow, felt the cold brisk air against his face, saw white smoke-like breath emerging from his mouth, pushed the car door and heard it shut, and watched where he stepped and walked toward the front of his house.  He looked up, saw his front door, and knew that Christine and Laura would be waiting inside.

Joseph opened the door, stepped in feeling warm surround him, and stomped the snow off of his shoes on a small floor rug covered with green holly with red berries and forest colored mistletoe patterns.  He felt something slam into his chest and realized that his three year old daughter, Christine had jumped on him.  He grabbed her to keep her from falling, gave her a big bear hug, and held her tight until she started giggling.

"Wow, Christine, did your feet touch the floor before you jumped on me or did you fly?" Joseph said in a cheery, teasing voice.

"I walked on the floor," Christine said and giggled again.

"It felt to me like you jumped and flew like an angel from the couch," he said exaggerating and smiling.

"No, I walked on the floor," Christine said again.

Joseph held Christine on his arm.  "What's that yummy smell coming from the kitchen?"

Christine held her finger up to her mouth to indicate that she had a secret, but her flour and cookie dough covered mouth had given away what Christine was hiding with her shush.  "Daddy, daddy, mommy is baking cookies," Christine whispered.

Joseph brushed a white smudge off of Christine's cheek. "Are you helping?"

"Yes, I made a Christmas tree cookie.  See," Christine said as she held up her empty white flour covered palms.

Laura walked out of the kitchen wiping her hands on a Christmas colored dish towel.

"It seemed to me like she ate the Christmas tree cookie before we could bake it," Laura said as she walked up and kissed Joseph.  "How did it go today?"

"Well, I didn't have any cookie dough Christmas trees.  I thought that both of you were going to wait for me," Joseph said looking disappointed.

"You're just in time," Laura said.  "We need you to taste a new batch of cookie dough to see if it's ready to roll out and cut."

Joseph put Christine down and walked into the kitchen.  Christine ran around him and beat him to the table where he saw a floured rolling board, a rolling pin, a flour sifter, and a large bowel filled with sugar cookie dough.   Flour had been splashed around on the table from a previous batch of cookies.  Joseph suspected that Christine had a big hand in helping the flour get smeared around.  He walked toward the table and reached toward the bowel of cookie dough.

"No, No, No," Laura said pointing her finger at him.  "Wash your hands first."

Joseph looked at her, smiled, walked to the sink, turned on the water, and quickly rinsed his hands under the facet.   He turned off the water, shook his hands, and held up his palms toward Laura for inspection.  "Is this good enough?"

Laura threw the Christmas hand towel at him and he caught it.  "Dry your hands first.  Then you can go to work as our number one taste inspector."

Joseph dried his hands, tossed the hand towel on the table near the bowel of cookie dough, sat in one of the kitchen chairs, opened his mouth wide, and pointed to indicate that he wanted a bite.  Christine pinched some of the dough and put it in his mouth.

"Is it okay daddy?" Christine said.

Joseph chewed a little, smacked and licked his lips, and said, "I think I need a little more just to make sure."

Christine giggled, pinched some more dough from the bowel and waited.  Joseph opened wide again, and tasted the sweet, vanilla flavored dough that Christine had pushed into his mouth with her finger.

Joseph licked his lips, and made more smacking noises.  "It tastes good to me.  Maybe you should taste it, Christine.  I wouldn't want to be wrong."

Christine took another pinch of the dough and it disappeared quickly into her mouth.  Then she chewed, smacked her lips like her father had done, swallowed, and licked her fingers.

"I think that's enough tasting.  We're not going to have any dough left to make cookies," Laura said.  She grabbed a pot holder, took a baked pan of hot cookies out of the oven, set the pan on the top of the stove, and walked over to the table.

Christine climbed up on a chair, sat down, squirmed around and stopped putting her hands in her lap, and watched her mother with anticipating eyes.

Laura cupped her fingers through the dough and pulled a lumpy ball out of the bowel.  She placed the dough on the breadboard, folded and flattened it a little with her hands.  Then she grabbed the rolling pin and rolled the dough out flat, first one direction then another, and set the rolling pin down on the table.

Christine climbed up putting her knees on the chair, grabbed the star cookie cutter, and pressed it down into the dough.

Joseph looked at the cookie cutter remembering the meaning of the symbol.  "The Christmas Star, the bright beacon that led the wise men to Bethlehem, and pointed to where the Christ Child was born," Joseph said.  Then he looked at Christine.

"The Christmas Star," Christine said lifting the cookie cutter.

To Joseph the cookie cutter star was a symbol of a child, a Christmas Star, a Christmas memory, a guiding Christmas light in the sky.  Joseph looked at Christine, the cookie cutter, and the cookie dough star and was reminded of a child and a Christmas Star that were Christmas cookies from his childhood.  Joseph told Christine and Laura about the story that the star cookie cutter reminded him about.

Christmas Star

The sky was dark and red, green, blue, and yellow lights flashed on street signs and lighted stores along the sidewalk of a busy city street.  Sounds of tires on wet pavement and visions of bright crystal colored head lights and red taillights traveled up and down the street.

A child walked along making small footsteps in the white soft snow on the city sidewalk.  The child looked down at the snow and walked with cautious steps.  The child's hand grasped a parent's warming hand tightly.  The child's other hand carried a star, a large yellow and gold five pointed tree star.

"My hand's getting cold," the child said looking up at the parent.

"Carrying a star is an awesome responsibility.  We'll be there soon.  Jesus was born in a cold stable.   But he heard sounds of satisfied animals, felt his mother's warm arms, and saw his father's presence in the stable."

"His father gave him presents?" the child said.

"No, his father was there in the stable with him.  We call that presence."

"It sounds like presents, you know, toys, and Christmas candy, and stuff in Christmas packages," the child said turning up from looking at the snow on the sidewalk.

"Presence does sound like presents, doesn't it?" the parent said.

The child saw a smiling face looking back.  Snowflakes began to fall, kissing the tiny foot prints in the soft snow on the sidewalk.  The child looked around and tried to catch one with an squirming tongue.

The parent and the child walked up steps that led to the sanctuary; the parent paused and waited for the child to put both feet on each step one at a time.  The star dropped on the step and the child stopped, bent over, and picked it up never releasing the parent's hand.

"I sorry," the child said with a pouting mouth and an eye that was filling with a tear, but a reassuring "That's all right." and a quick parent who caught the glistening tear drop.  The parent kept the precious tear from falling on the sidewalk and being lost in the snow.

They walked into the cathedral and were greeted with warming smiling faces, happy voices, and squeezing hugs.  All this happiness and commotion was too much for a child with an important task.  For the child had arrived and had brought the Christmas star.

Joseph smiled as he finished the story and looked at Christine.

Christine put the star cookie cutter on the table and carefully pealed the Christmas star away from the breadboard.   She looked at the cookie dough star, as she held the star up, and handed the dough colored star to her mother to put on the greased and floured cookie sheet.

"Thank you Christine," Laura said placing the cookie on the cookie sheet.  "The oven is ready to bake the cookies.   Everyone grab a cookie cutter and let's get these Christmas cookies cut and put in the oven."

It was heart warming to smell the warm fragrence of Christmas cookies in the air of the warm kitchen.  There was renewed hope helping him to accept the tough reality of the world as he looked in the smiling faces of Laura and Christine as they put the shaped cookie dough of the soon to be Christmas cookies into the hot oven.  He couldn't wait to share them with Carl and Joan and Judy and their families.  He would be sure to ask all of them over for Christmas dinner, and he would also be sure to hide some of the cookies away for Laura, Christine, and ... himself ... of course.

The sound file for this web page is "His Star Shines" by Aaron Barnes (c) 1979.

These pages have been prepared by Aaron Barnes email: abarnes410@comcast.net WebMaster.

Contact Information

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Last modified: October 10, 2009